


Behind the Screen

by RockinT765



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Drama, I wrote this forever ago but never posted it, M/M, dr3, what if the third killing game was broadcasted au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-11
Updated: 2016-12-11
Packaged: 2018-09-07 23:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8820028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockinT765/pseuds/RockinT765
Summary: Byakuya Togami watches the third killing game. He does not like what he sees.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is set in Future Arc, and is an au where the killing game was actually broadcasted. That's the only real change, however. Although, the whole conversation with Byakuya using Miaya's screen would've been pretty different. Also, sorry it's kinda short.

He had been informed early on.

He was sitting at his desk, trying to ignore the fears that pulled at him. Makoto was having his trial, where they would decide his fate.

And, Byakuya was terrified–unreasonably and completely terrified. His fingers gripped and clung to the smooth pages of books and files, leaving them crumpled. His coffee threatened to spill each time his shaking hands latched onto the mug. He wanted to scream, just to release some of the nervous energy building up inside him. He was an absolute wreck, but no matter how worried he was, how scared he was, he couldn’t tell a soul.

He had a duty. It was his responsibility to take over for Kyoko while she attended the trial. Even if he had been able to go, he wouldn’t have. He couldn’t face Makoto, and the leaders of Future Foundation when he in such a state. Byakuya Togami was logical, and rational. He couldn’t let them see that maybe sometimes those were just words, words that _others_ had assigned him. Were he to label _himself,_ boil his every word and action down to simplistic categories, he would never use those words.

Byakuya Togami was a coward, a liar who hid behind his name. Deep down, that was all he really was. But, like Celeste, he could sometimes convince himself that the lies he told himself were true. Maybe he _was_ the best, and maybe he was as talented and perfect as he’d always said he was. But, maybe he wasn’t. And, that’s why he always said the things he said. If those around him thought he was all of those things, did it even matter who he really was?

But, that all collapsed each time he spoke to Makoto. He _knew_ him. Makoto listened, understood, believed, and looked at him like he was _amazing_ , like he was truly  _good_. And, he’d so easily destroyed the facade that Byakuya had constructed so many years ago. It took all of him, all of his energy, his patience, his ability, to not allow Makoto to learn about who he was, beyond all the names and insults.

With Makoto, he _felt_ things. He felt joy. He felt warmth. He felt _alive_. And, it ruined him.

If life was dull, bland, and boring, he could overlook everything, and everyone. He’d never grow attached, and he’d never feel compelled to share. He could hate and ignore and move on. But, Makoto was a shining light of hope. His words bounced around his head, boosting his confidence, and softly chipping away at the emptiness. Makoto was average, but there would never be another like him. He was _extraordinary_.

And, Byakuya was in love with him.

If he had attempted to go to the trial, and they found Makoto guilty of treason or any other offense, he may have reacted poorly, may have let his feelings get the best of him. What would he have done then? Perhaps he’d have blurted it all out. Why he _knew_ that Makoto wasn’t part of the despair. How he really felt about the luckster.

Then, he’d have lost it all.

So, he stayed at his desk, and acted like he wasn’t falling apart, like he’d been doing his whole life. He read reports, watched over the members below him, and did anything else that could take up his time. For what felt like years, he did his work, and functioned like a regular person, like someone who wasn’t preparing for the worst, and who wasn’t worried that they’d soon be left grieving.

And, after a while, someone came up to him, someone who looked almost like they were about to cry. They spoke to him in a voice so calm, and so even, that he knew something was wrong, and told him that he needed to see something.

They brought him to a screen, one displaying something he’d never wanted to see. They told him that a mutual killing game had begun, that Chisa Yukizome had already died, that Monokuma was back, and that some of his closest friends and co-workers were all trapped in the building. And then, they told him that the one person he cared about most in the world was the primary suspect.

Byakuya turned his attention to the screen, and watched as they panicked, learning what was going on, just as they were.

There were rules, as there always had been. There was a time limit, and when it went off, even the strongest people would fall to the ground, lifeless prey. There was a traitor, someone who would be slowly killing off the protectors of the world’s hope.

He watched, helplessly, as Juzo walked over to Makoto and hoisted him off the ground by his shirt, and implied that he was working with the despair. In that moment, Byakuya could’ve watched the love of his life die. But, Hina and Ryota had protected him, had potentially saved his life. However, Daisuku had paid the price, and Byakuya saw him fall to the floor, his face contorted and bloody.

It was one of the worst things he’d ever witnessed. Even the executions of his fellow classmates paled in comparison to the utter terror in Daisuku’s eyes, the shaking of his hands, the discoloration of his skin, and the sickening sounds that had come out of him in his last moments.

All Byakuya could think about was how easily that could happen to Makoto, to anyone else in that room.

It had been a terrible decision to stay behind.

If he had been there, he could’ve intervened, could’ve provided guidance, or support. He could’ve done something, anything, if he were there, beside Makoto. But, he wasn’t. He was sitting behind a screen, safely watching his friends die from a distance. And, there was nothing he could do.

All he _could_ do was watch nearly everyone in that room decide that they needed to murder Makoto. That was, of course, if he didn’t _kill himself_ first.

Byakuya was sick at the thought. His head spinning, he ran over to the trash can and leaned over it, wishing he could vomit. He felt his throat tighten as he retched, coughing and sputtering and choking back sobs. He gripped the rim, his mouth tasting foul, and his breathing so fast that he feared he was hyperventilating.

For what may have been minutes, or hours, or days, Byakuya stood there, trying to calm himself down. He heard people behind him, muttering, wondering if he was okay enough to lead.

So, he turned around and told them he was. “Our top priority is rescuing those taking part in the mutual killing games,” he said, his voice holding more authority than he thought he was capable of, “Find them. Get to them. That is your mission. You have no reason to disobey, and I will see to it that you don’t.”

He stared at everyone before him, summoning all the strength that he had.

 _“Don’t let me down._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Not a lot substance-wise, but I hope you liked it.
> 
> EDIT: I was gonna add a second chapter, but I'm not really sure where I would've gone with it, so just have this little story fragment.


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